Everything Was Black
by Wiccacow
Summary: A one-shot sequel to It Hurt, with Nnoitra and Tesla in a limbo while rediscovering each other's pasts. NnoiTes


Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, the universe it exists in, or the characters. I do, however, own the four verse of poem in the beginning of the fic.

Warning: Hint of boyslash.

Time passed, my feelings grew

You were the mantis, I the boar

Yet when I learned of what you went through

I loved you all the more

Everything was black. It seemed very odd, for a life surrounded by white was the life they had lived. Surrounded by white with the occasional splash of red, which would fade away, to be taken over by the absence of color. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Just…different. A gentle difference; the blackness was comforting. It wasn't as if he couldn't see anything, either. He had the impression of a domed room thanks to a dim light, whose source could not be pinpointed. A perfect dome.

He didn't think about where he was. It didn't seem unfamiliar. It was as if he had returned to some old tree house he had played in when he was younger. He felt no danger from the soft darkness that surrounded him. Thus, he simply laid there for a time, allowing his senses to feel absolutely nothing.

He wasn't sure how long he had been there already, or how much time was passing. His whole perception of time seemed to be gone. The air, the ground, his body, all of it was suspended in animation. Yet, he could feel his own breath, his own heartbeat, all of which felt much slower than what he was accustomed to. Almost afraid that he might slowly suffocate, the boy sat up, if only to get his blood and breath to flow faster. He could see no more nor less in a sitting up position. He did however sense something beside him. Sensed it moving. Sensed a familiar exhale that felt a part of him as much as one of his own lungs. He was no stranger to that breath. He knew who it was. Yet, when that should have invoked some great concern or great joy in him, he felt nothing but a small flutter of happiness that flickered away as quickly as a small flame goes out.

He paid little attention to the form beside him. Instead, he stared at his feet, only slightly illuminated by the mysterious light. He wasn't directly looking at his feet, however. The floor below them was moving. Not as in rotating, but as in its image was moving. Moving pictures below his toes, all of them blurred to the point that he would not recognize them even if he had a fresh memory of what was being displayed. When a flash of red splashed across the shifting images, he suddenly began to see the images much more clearly, as if his mind's eye had been cleansed of all dirt and grime, as a window would be. He saw white sand stained red under his feet, and a giant form falling. A giant form with the likeness of a warthog. It did not take him more than a millisecond to place a name to the face.

Tesla.

Something inside him stirred, though he wasn't sure what. There was no feeling tied to it, only the word. Tesla. It felt like it should mean something to him. Like it should be the center of his world. But when he searched his mind for a meaning, he turned up with nothing. It made him feel… empty, inside.

The boy was distracted from that emptiness by movement above. Those same white sands flickered across the surface of the dome, the white stained red, but this time a figure with six arms fell to the ground. Once again, he had the feeling it should mean something great for him, but he could not even produce a name to stick to the image.

"Nnoitra."

It had not been his own voice that had spoken. It was the voice of the one beside him. He looked to the man on the ground, still lying, though not asleep. He was watching the flickering images on the ceiling, which seemed to intertwine with the images on the floor. Both of them could see the image on their retinas; they need not watch the pictures. It was as if the pictures were just there to remind, to get their memories moving.

Memories. The boy was searching for them, but could not find them any quicker than what the images were showing him. He gave up in his mental pursuit, just watching the figure on the ground. He could not see his face. But he could see his outline. The boy licked his lips, having expected them to be dry for some reason. "Nnoitra." He echoed.

The man on the ground turned his face towards the boy. He said nothing, only seemed to be watching the other, whom was watching him back. No words were exchanged between them. Things more important than words were being exchanged.

Suddenly, the boy's emotions seemed to turn on like a switch. The light seemed to get brighter, and he could clearly see the man's face now. Long raven locks, constantly narrowed eyes, long face, thin lips, and elongated teeth. Soon, the image of his face blurred, a watery film distorting the picture.

The boy was crying. And he didn't even know why. He just felt a tremendous sadness as well as relief, worry, and happiness, all at the same time. It overwhelmed him and confused his body into a reaction, and that reaction was his tears. He didn't know what else to do. His throat was clenched shut, and he only managed to get a single word out.

"Nnoitra-sama…" The boy whispered, his throat burning with the pain of talking while his body began to shake with his tears, but his whisper carried his positive emotions, not his negative ones.

The man called Nnoitra did not react. At least, not in a way the boy could see. The lanky man had sat up, but other than that he was just staring at the boy. He could see nothing on the man's face; it was just a blur of color.

But Nnoitra was not without feeling. His own emotions were stirred, and he felt similar emotions to the boy seated in front of him, though much less intensely. More than anything, he was unsure and confused. He didn't understand quite what was happening, and the boy hadn't even bothered to dwell on that thought. So Nnoitra tried not to either. He turned his face away from the tearful eyes of the boy that caused such uneasiness in him, watching a new image on the surface of the room. He briefly caught a glimpse of an image of the boy and himself together, though he could see not what they were doing nor where they were before the image went away. But the image had left behind a word in his head.

"Tesla." Nnoitra said quietly as he turned his face back to the boy, whose face erupted into a bright smile. That was the boy's name.

Tesla wanted to speak his master's name once more, but he could not find the voice to do so. The flow of tears had slowed to a stop, his eyes red and dry and his face stained with the salty emotion. And yet, even though both of them felt as if they should do something, neither of them moved. They knew not what they wished to do.

They needn't have worried, though, for the images began to appear again, though much slower and much more clearly. Both of them watched as some babe unknown to both of them appeared in the images. The babe was held by a tired-looking woman, no doubt the mother who had just given birth to him. As she coddled the child, the image faded to another. This time, it was a boy, in his early teens perhaps, who was wielding a sword, practicing on some invisible foe. The boy had dark hair, tied in a ponytail, his eyes dark, his limbs long.

Tesla froze, looking towards Nnoitra, before looking back at the image, wide-eyed. It was Nnoitra in the picture! But he looked so much younger. Hollows didn't change their appearance with age. Was this Nnoitra as he was before he became a…?

His thoughts drifted off there. His mind seemed to be withholding some sort of knowledge from him, the word not coming to him. He wasn't even sure where his thoughts had been going. His memories were cast in shadow. Unable to shed light on them, he focused again on the image, which had changed again, this time to the late teens, it appeared. Tesla did not have a sense of regular, human time, but yet he seemed to instinctually know how much time had passed between the boy in the image's birth to his current state. The Nnoitra in the picture was walking inside what appeared to be his own house, though it was as small as a shed and rather barren. Tesla couldn't help but admire how strong he looked, compared to with his early teens.

Then, suddenly, a sword plunged through the teen-Nnoitra's chest. Tesla gasped slightly, his still sore throat robbing him of normal volume. His eyes went wide, and he turned to the real Nnoitra, as if to make sure he was still intact. Nnoitra didn't seem to be paying attention to anything around them, his eyes focused on the picture. Eyes… Tesla didn't know why, but it seemed strange to him that Nnoitra should have two eyes. It felt as if something extra was there from what normally was. But once again, his mind shed no light on his memories.

He watched with sadness in his heart as the boy in the image fell, the life seeping from him. But the life was seeping too slowly; the boy was in pain. He wasn't going peacefully. Tesla could sense his panic, his despair as he died. It seemed to take eternity before the picture faded. When the images returned, it showed a baby again. Tesla was confused at first, but then he saw it was a different baby. Or rather, he saw that it was a different mother holding the baby. A miniscule warmness flickered inside him at seeing the smiling woman, embracing her child. The child was asleep, but grasped at its mother when she tightened her grip. A smile was on Tesla's face by the time the image faded.

The next image showed the boy older. The boy seemed nothing special to him; sandy blonde hair, brown eyes. But when he looked over to Nnoitra, the lanky man seemed transfixed by the image. While confused and concerned for the other, he forced his attention back to the images, finding himself faced with the image of the child crying by his mother's still body, surrounded by fire. The fire soon engulfed the whole image, fading to black. The progression of images had been less than Nnoitra's. He looked to said man, who opened his mouth as whispered quietly "That was you."

Puzzled for a moment, Tesla soon got it. That boy in the image… had been him? Shouldn't he have recognized himself? He had felt nothing at the images. Then something struck him. If both him and Nnoitra had died in the images, and when they were young… how come they were there now, alive, and much older?

Or were they even alive? What did the word 'alive' even mean? Breathing, having a heart-beat… they had those. But why didn't the connotation of 'alive' have the same feeling that he had now?

"Nnoitra-sama-" He had begun to speak, but the images had started again. They flickered by quickly, barely showing for a moment what the image was. Tesla was unable to make sense of the images, but had the impression of a giant white mantis destroying and devouring other creatures, before getting the impression of the man sitting beside him. Then the images suddenly stopped, and started up again, only this time Tesla understood each quick image that flew by.

He saw a giant white boar on two legs, surrounded by white sand. It wandered aimlessly, avoiding other creatures like it that were bigger than it, and devouring those smaller than it. It slowly grew more compact, growing into a more efficient form. More powerful. It devoured more and more creatures, until it had reached the end of its evolution. Then, it had been given more power. Its mask had been removed, leaving behind a boy with sandy brown hair and brown eyes.

Tesla. He didn't even have to watch the majority of the images to know. As he watched, the memories flooded back to him. He was a hollow, a creature borne from a spirit of unrest. He remembered being that boar, focusing on nothing more than eating to relieve his pain. But when his mask had been taken off… there had been no more reason to eat. Because not only had he reached his full potential… but it was then that he had met Nnoitra.

The boy turned to said man, who had been watching him. More images flickered around them. Images of their first meeting. Images of Nnoitra's anger, and Tesla's slight defiance. Images of Nnoitra and Neliel, the one person he hated more than anything. Images of both of them and Szayel. Of Neliel's downfall. Of Neliel's return. Of Nnoitra's battles. Of Tesla's loyalty. But neither of them were looking at the images. They instead looked at each other in silence, both their memories coming back. Then, the images slowed, and then stopped. Still, they did not look. In their mind's eye they saw. Saw their broken, bloody bodies. Nnoitra's head on Tesla's lap. Tesla forever hunched over his master in silent vigil.

Then the tears came. Tesla couldn't stop them. The confusion of emotions had come back, though one emotion dominated the rest; love. Without even bothering to control himself, he had lunged forward, grasping Nnoitra's arms with his hands and burying his face in the other's chest, shoulders shaking like the branches of a tree and he wept.

"Nnoitra-sama…Nnoitra-sama…" He repeated over and over, filled with love at being by his side. Filled with love at being with him again. And again filled with love as Nnoitra's arms enclosed around him, hugging him even tighter than Tesla was holding him. They sat there and embraced each other, both of them filled with the same feelings. They were together. They hadn't lost each other.

As the two sat there still, the dome around them was fading to white. Both felt warmness creeping over their whole being, fulfillment filling their souls. Soon the whiteness would engulf them. Soon it would take them to where they would be together for as long as they wished. But for now they would sit and hold each other, satisfied with just that.

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**A/N: **So this is kinda sorta a sequel to _It Hurt_. A kinda late sequel, since I began it not long after that one. XD~ In the manga, I can't remember who had questioned him (I think it was Po-whale), but after Ikkaku had said "I pray that you are strong!" they had asked "And who do you pray to?" More dialogue ensued, but this and other scenes touch on the question; what happens to shinigami after they die? So I applied this to the hollows. And came up with this; a limbo that takes all your memories and events in your life, plays them back, and then casts you to Heaven or Hell or wherever. And since hollow are judged only on the actions they did in life and not as a hollow, Nnoitra and Tesla were sent to heaven. :3

Some of you may be thinking "But arrancar are made up of thousands//hundreds of hollow! So they technically count as more than one soul!" That may be true, but arrancar are born when _one_ of the consciences of the hollow it's made up of takes control. So yes, while all the other souls would get judged too, this fanfiction is obviously gunna be focused on the dominant soul, in this case Tesla's and Nnoitra's~

I hope you enjoyed my babblings. :3


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